


(tear down my walls) call you home

by notwithhaste



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Post-Canon, Season/Series 09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23736985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notwithhaste/pseuds/notwithhaste
Summary: She's far too level-headed and rational to entertain such notions as soulmates, but the romantic side of her – the one that dresses up and plays renaissance lovers; the one that's waited for Harvey Specter for almost fifteen years – that side thinks, surely.Darvey in S9 and beyond.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	(tear down my walls) call you home

**Author's Note:**

> If this is familiar, you might have read it over on ff net. Just reposting my fics here for tidiness and posterity.
> 
> If you haven’t read it, I hope you enjoy. :)

She watches him in the dark.

He's lying on his back, one hand on his chest, the other going slack somewhere between her neck and her shoulder. His fingers slow down their movements in her hair as he drifts off to sleep.

She's in his bed so often now that it doesn't feel like his bed anymore. Neither does his apartment. Neither does hers, for that matter. It's just – not theirs, no, but _shared_. Everything has become shared, all the pieces of their lives slotting in effortlessly and perfectly together, and she's far too level-headed and rational to entertain such notions as soulmates, but the romantic side of her – the one that dresses up and plays renaissance lovers; the one that's waited for Harvey Specter for almost fifteen years – that side thinks, _surely_.

Donna studies him. Harvey's breathing deepens and she feels his hand in her hair relax further. His brow and jaw are relaxed, too, and there's a small smile playing on his lips, and Donna still isn't used to that. She knows she makes him happy, but on the other hand - holy shit, _look at how happy she makes him_. She's spent so long having to read him and while she was pretty good at it, made it her living and her character trait - _her thing_ \- she still had to do it, still had to gauge what he wasn't saying by the crook in his tie or the set of his jaw or the haunted look on his face across the room.

She doesn't need to do that anymore. He's an open book and it seems to be exactly how he wants it. It's definitely an adjustment.

She realizes she's wearing a smile herself and she touches his gently with her index finger, feels the stubble just under his ear. It feels good to be openly loved by Harvey Specter.

She snuggles closer to him, and the romantic side of her whispers into his shoulder, "I love you, Harvey."

There's a moment of silence and she thinks maybe he _was_ sleeping. Then the fingers in her hair tighten; an unconscious possessive gesture. "I heard that."

Her smile widens, "Mmmmm. You were meant to."

She feels his chin move as he looks down, "Less scary this way?"

Turning her face further into his shoulder, she chuckles, "Maybe." Darkness definitely makes momentous firsts like these easier, she finds.

"Thought so."

Lifting her face to look at him – his eyes are sleepy and smiling – she shakes her head, amused. "Since when are you this emotionally astute and intuitive anyway?" Harvey opens his mouth, but she lifts a finger before he can answer, "And don't say Oprah."

Shifting them until they're both lying on their sides facing each other, Harvey murmurs, "I wasn't going to say Oprah." He pulls her against his naked chest, feeling warm and every bit forever he promised her. "I was going to say you."

"That's so cheesy."

"It's also true," he retorts quietly, not looking away. He never looks away anymore. Donna feels his fingers find the naked skin of her lower back, between the silk of her top and her bottoms. It makes her spine tingle and she shifts closer. "Now, stop deflecting and let me enjoy the fact that my girlfriend just admitted she loves me."

"Like you didn't already know," she murmurs against his lips.

"Feels good to hear it."

"Feels good to say it," she whispers, tracing his ear.

Harvey's fingers dig into the skin of her back, his other palm firm on her side as he traces up, over her ribs, bunching up the material as he goes.

Donna closes her eyes. "I never said it before," she confesses, barely audible. "To anyone."

His movements stop; she feels his thumb under her breast, his breath slow as he lets it out in one measured exhale.

"I never felt it with anyone else." Her eyes still closed, she moves her fingers gently over his scalp. "Just you."

Brushing his nose against hers, he nudges, urging her to look at him. And it's so like him, making her face this; he's been in this relationship with eyes wide open from the start, and he wants her right there with him.

She opens her eyes.

His are dark and gentle and round as he takes her in, softness to him that she still finds hard to believe is her everyday now. This is Harvey Specter in love. This is Harvey Specter in love with her.

He softly brushes the hair back from her face. "I only said it once before."

Donna nods; Scottie, probably. She's not jealous – she's not the type and they both have their pasts. He's here and hers; she just wants him to understand why it's so hard to share sometimes, to –

"And then I took it back," he sighs. "So I'm not sure it counts."

Donna frowns at him because he's smiling at her like she's missing something, like he's waiting for her to catch up. Like she should really know this one. His thumb caressing her cheekbone, he waits it out and –

Oh.

"You mean –"

"I mean," he presses his nose to hers again. "It's you. You're the one."

Donna's chest suddenly feels too tight for everything she's feeling. He's been doing that a lot recently, surprising her and overwhelming her, and she thinks it's unfair that she finally plucked up the courage to say the words out loud, and yet he still has the emotional upper hand.

As if he could read her thoughts – and this new and hers Harvey Specter probably can – he groans and pulls her in, his lips capturing her, confident and claiming.

"Like you didn't know," he murmurs against her lips.

She smiles into the kiss, shakes her head slightly, then thinks on the last few weeks –

_right where I'm supposed to be_

_love about you_

_you know we're gonna be together forever, right_

_mom. meet donna._

\- and she did know. It's just that sometimes, it seems too big to take in. She had gotten so used to guarding her heart, so used to him playing his cards close to his chest, that it still catches her off guard, how incredibly vast and all-encompassing his feelings for her are. The ease with which he shares them. The weight of their years is something that still feels so overwhelmingly significant, she doesn't always know how to tackle it.

She tries to take it one moment at the time now.

Winding her arms around his neck, she pulls him closer, rolling onto her back with Harvey on top of her. She looks up at him in the dark, and it's so reminiscent of their second first time weeks ago. Her voice is low and husky and heavy with the knowledge of everything she means to him.

"I know now."

He gives her a short nod and she pulls him in, her fingers digging into his scalp as she opens her mouth to his. The first contact elicits a small groan from Harvey, his hips moving on reflex, his reaction to her so immediate and raw and, much like his feelings and his thoughts, he seems to have no intention of reigning it in.

His lips are on her neck and she moans when she feels his teeth scrape the length of her throat. "Harvey," she pleads as she lifts her hips off the bed, seeking more.

"Donna," he groans into her skin. She feels shivers down her spine; no one has ever made her name sound like a need and a confession and a benediction the way Harvey Specter has been doing for years.

"I should have known."

"I should have told you sooner." He lifts his head and she can just about make out his features in the dark. "It's been you all along," he says, his voice gruff, his eyes unwavering.

She feels breathless. "Say it again."

Leaning down, he drags his lips over the outline of her mouth. "Just you, Donna." Her chin. "You've had me." Follows the line of her jaw to her ear. "All along."

He leaves no room for doubt.

.

Donna leans in the doorway to the living room, arms crossed over her middle. Resting her head against the wood, she watches him stare at the painting, hands between his knees, the phone loose between his fingers.

He looks up at her and smiles, small but there.

Pushing away from the doorframe, she makes her way to him.

"All good?"

He considers this. "We're getting there."

She comes to stand by the chair, turning to look at the art. "Did you tell her about the painting?"

Harvey shakes his head, "No."

"Oh."

Looking up at her, he reaches for her hand, his fingers gently kneading two of her own. "I want to show it to her," he gives her a soft smile. "When I finally introduce you in person."

Biting her lip, she blinks away the sudden wave of emotion. "I can't wait," she whispers.

"She's going to love it," he tells her. "She's going to love you. Even more than she already does."

Donna wants to say something smart, like comment on Lily's infinite wisdom and taste, but finds herself too moved to tease.

Harvey holds her gaze for a long moment, his eyes glassy, his face showing everything he would once upon a time try his hardest to conceal. Everything she'd once have to spend hours agonizing over. It's not so surprising anymore. She's slowly getting used to it, their new normal.

He stands up and barefoot Donna has to look up at him. He glances at the painting. "You know what Stemple said to me when he took the painting?"

Donna shakes her head, wondering at the shift in conversation.

"He told me he wanted to take a piece of me." He purses his lips, his jaw setting in annoyance at the memory and her fingers squeeze around his in silent comfort. Looking back at her, he continues, "That's what this painting is. A piece of me." He pauses. "A happy moment with my mom and god knows there aren't enough of those." His voice is softer when he adds, "You didn't just give me the painting, Donna. You gave me back a piece of my childhood."

His eyes are full of unshed tears and she knows hers are, too. "My pleasure, Harvey," she smiles.

"I'm not trying to thank you," he starts then shakes his head, corrects himself. "I'm not _just_ trying to thank you, Donna. What I mean is," he frowns. "This painting. My mom," he gestures at the phone. He pauses then, taking a deep breath like he's struggling with something. "My dad's funeral. Marcus. None of that would have happened if it wasn't for you."

"You did the actual work, Harvey."

"I wouldn't have. Trust me, I had no intention of making things right with my mom until you brought her up." He cocks his head, "Which took some guts at the time."

She'll give him that; she remembers what a minefield that topic used to be. "You just needed a little push," she says, smoothing down his shirt and giving his chest a pat.

"More of a shove," Harvey huffs, the corner of his mouth tugging. She smiles back, feels his fingers brush hers as he takes a step forward. "The truth is, Donna, if it'd been anyone else coming to me and telling me to make peace with her, I wouldn't have listened. Hell, even so much as a mention of Lily and I would have bitten their head off, and you know it."

"I have my ways," she says, her words easy but the thumb pressing into the crook of his elbow letting him know she appreciates hearing him say it.

He steps closer until he's flush against her. "When I went to see her in Boston, I told her someone very special to me made me come. I think she fell in love with you then." He pauses, smirking. "I think she was taking her cues from me."

"A mother always knows," Donna chuckles.

"What I'm trying to say is," he's looking at her serious and heartfelt now. "The fact I can call my mom now and just _talk_ to her," he shakes his head, as if this is the most mind-boggling thing in the world. For anyone else, it probably wouldn't be. But Harvey and Lily; they had to earn the little things other people take for granted. He regards her with a soft smile, "The man I am today. The man I want to be," he continues, reminding her of what she told him in his office the other night, and she sees where this is going. "It's all you."

She shakes her head; he's so wrong.

"I once told you I couldn't be me without you," he reminds her, raising his eyebrows. "Turns out, I'm me _because_ of you."

Still shaking her head, she trails her hand down his forearm and wraps her fingers around his. "No." And it's just so typically Harvey. For a man who built his career and his reputation on confidence and ego, he's spectacularly blind to his own worth. "You've always been this man. Always." Her tone doesn't allow for argument, and for once he doesn't. "You were just too busy running away from him to see it. But that man," she presses her palm against his chest. "He's always been right here."

Brushing her fingers down his jaw, she takes him in. The way his top lip curves in the most maddening way and the way his eyes focus on her like she's the focal point of the entire universe. And each laughline and every frown-induced wrinkle that's marked him and made him the man he is today.

"Trust me, I know," she adds. "Because that's the man I fell in love with."

His eyes dance over her face and she gives him a minute, lets the truth of it sink in, and she spots the moment it does. His expression turns softer before he pulls her by the hip and kisses her, a firm press against her bottom lip. Eyes still shut, he stays close, their foreheads touching.

"I meant what I said, Harvey. You're the real deal."

He threads their fingers together. "This is."

Donna smiles, pressing her fingers between his knuckles. "This, too."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For seeing through the bullshit."

She chuckles, fingers of her free hand playing with his collar. "Just part of the Donna Paulsen package."

She feels his palms on her lower back as he pulls her in. "That's my favorite package."

"Then I suggest," she smiles at him coyly, undoing the buttons of his shirt. Walking backwards, she moves her bare shoulder, making the top slip further down her arm. "You come over and do some unwrapping."

His tongue wedged in his cheek, he grins, his eyes darkening like he wants to devour her. Like flipping a switch, she thinks to herself a little smugly as she watches him shuck his jacket and follow her to the bedroom.

.

"All packed."

"All packed."

She comes to join him, standing in the middle of the living room, a glass of half-drunk scotch in one hand, a vinyl cover in the other.

"He's so good," she comments on the music, looking down at the picture of his dad on a worn record sleeve. No, not worn. Well-loved.

"One of the greats," he agrees. "Or should have been."

She touches his arm. "I told Ray we'd be running a little late."

He turns to her. "Thank you. I think I want to stay here for a bit longer."

Harvey is good at a lot of things, but letting go will never be one of them. There are still things he wants to do, she knows. Chapters he wants to give a proper epilogue to. One last goodbye, to this apartment that's been a home for years, just like his office a couple of weeks ago.

"Do you want to be alone?"

"No," he shakes his head, reaching for her, his hand warm as it closes around hers. Looking around, he scans the apartment, scans the city through the glass of his balcony, his eyes circling back to her. "I definitely don't want to be alone."

She squeezes his hand, swallowing as she gives him a tight-lipped nod. "Feels surreal, doesn't it."

"Second thoughts?"

"About leaving?" she asks and he hums. "No. You need to give this a shot."

"And you?"

"I need you to give this a shot." He looks grateful and Donna doesn't want that. They're a team. Like everything, they do this together. "I'm not unhappy, Harvey. This isn't a sacrifice or a favor."

"It feels like both." She goes to interrupt him, but he's quicker. "It's a lot to ask."

She cocks her head at him. "If I told you I didn't want to go. Would you stay?"

Harvey frowns at the question. "Of course," is his immediate reply. She raises her shoulder and her eyebrow to stress her point. He gets it. "Right."

"This is no different, Harvey" she says, rubbing a thumb over the pulse point on his wrist. "And you did ask. And I said yes."

"Simple as that," his tone indicates some doubt.

"Simple as that," she assures. It's not a platitude, either. They need to see if this can work. And if it doesn't then New York is just a plane ticket away. "It's only Seattle, Harvey."

"Seattle isn't home."

"No," she agrees. "You are."

He swallows, his jaw tense; the good kind of tense. And as much as she loves his displays of affection - and boy does she love it - she enjoys _this_ even more. Harvey Specter in love is a sight to behold. Harvey Specter loved? That's a whole other level.

"Come on," she gives his wrist a gentle tug. "There's one thing we haven't done here that I want to do before we go."

Finishing his drink, Harvey puts it down and follows her to the middle of the room. "What's that."

"I found I really really like dancing with my husband."

"That's convenient," he says. "Cause I really love dancing with my wife."

"Do you now," she arches an eyebrow.

"Mhmm." Extending his hand, he smiles at her. "Can I have this dance?"

The corners of her lips tug, her mouth a soft curve as her fingers land on top of his. "You can have all of them."

Raising his eyebrows at her, he grins and pulls her closer. She cups his neck with her left hand, her right a perfect fit in his left and there's a cool of metal there. His wedding ring. It feels good against her knuckle.

"What are you smiling about," he asks idly.

She shakes his head, "Us."

He starts to lead.

Falling into step with him, she hums, "Who would have thought."

"Mike and Rachel, apparently."

"And Marcus." She runs her thumb over her own wedding ring. "And Lily," she adds softly.

He closes his eyes, the music the only sound in the room as they move slowly to the sax. "And Gordon."

She looks up at him, "He couldn't possibly have known."

"He always had a soft spot for you, you know," he muses, clearly remembering something. "Told me to get my shit together before you came to your senses and married someone who would appreciate what he has."

"I guess I never did. Come to my senses."

"And boy am I glad for that."

"You were worth the wait," she says, fingers combing through the short hairs at the back of his head.

"I was an idiot."

"That, too," she chuckles.

Harvey smirks at that. The sax intensifies. "He was a hopeless romantic."

"He was." She knows. Harvey told her stories.

"I wish he could have seen me with you."

She closes her eyes, imagining how that would have gone. Pretty great, she thinks. "Me, too."

"When he talked about my mom," he muses, remembering. "Even after she —" He rephrases, "Even after all that happened. She was always the one." Donna smiles into his neck, feels the reverberations of his voice against her cheek. She loves listening to Harvey talk about his dad. "And I never got that, how one person could mean so much to him. He said she was his for better or for worse. That one day I'll understand." He pauses and she feels his lips in her hair. "He was right."

Harvey falls silent and she knows him well enough - she knows him perfectly and completely - to know that tension in his muscles is an old ache in his bones so uniquely Gordon. She feels him fighting it and runs a soothing hand over his shoulders.

"He always wanted me to have this." Donna's hand tightens around the nape of his neck, but she doesn't say anything, let's him tell her. "Family." His lips against her temple, the words come out sounding like relief, "And now I do."

Donna smiles to herself. And now he does. Her heart feels too big for her chest as Harvey holds her close and they dance for awhile, just the two of them, in the half empty apartment stripped of pretty much everything except basic furniture and memories.

"I'm going to miss this place," she muses, looking around.

"Me, too."

"It's very," she looks for the word. "You."

"I was just thinking how you're everywhere."

Donna pulls back to look at him, "That's sweet, Harvey, but we've only been together for a few months."

"We've only been in a relationship for a few months," he corrects her. "We've been together for years."

She sees his point. "Okay, then," she challenges. "Show me."

"Let's see." Slow dancing, he leads them slowly to the front door. "This is where you convinced me to go to Boston," he says, his voice just loud enough to be heard above the music. "To forgive my mom."

She brushes the back of his neck. "Your bags were already packed," she points out, her feet shuffling where the bags were waiting for Harvey to gather his courage and go.

"I lost faith in me. You didn't."

"Never," she whispers.

Moving through the kitchen, he kisses her shoulder. "There's the cactus you gave me. Still alive."

She turns her head to look at it. "Oh, we need to pack that."

Harvey groans into the crook of her neck. "Not what I was going for."

She chuckles. "Because you're sentimental."

"Because I'm sentimental."

She knows exactly how sentimental he is now.

Turning them, he dances over to the living room, manoeuvring them around the furniture. "This is where you told me you were coming back to me." His grip on her tightens, his voice deep in her ear.

"I was always going to come back to you, Harvey. From the moment I left your office." It's a confession she wouldn't have made just a short year ago. She can tell him anything now. "Even if I couldn't admit it to myself at the time, it was never going to be permanent." Burying her nose in the crook of his shoulder, she marvels at her own foolishness. "Why do you think I only went down the hall instead of going to work for one of many firms that would have jumped at the chance to have me."

"To teach me a lesson?" he asks quietly. There's no bite to his words; they're not those people anymore.

But ouch, that hurts because he's not wrong. "Maybe a little bit of that, too," she admits, trailing her finger above his collar.

"Maybe I deserved it."

She doesn't know about that and anyway, she's not interested in either feeling guilty or placing blame. They shoulder their past together, that much is certain. "I didn't want to hurt you, Harvey. I just wanted you to notice."

His feelings; their potential; her.

"I noticed," he says, his voice a low rumble in her ear. "I was too much of a coward to like it or do anything about it, but I noticed."

"We were both pretty stupid back then."

"Careful now. That's my wife you're talking about."

She loves that word. "Your wife is way smarter than your secretary because your wife isn't going anywhere."

"Good," he says gently, and she recognizes the throwback.

"Good," she smiles in his neck.

Silence stretches as they slowly move on the spot, swaying to the music.

He looks down at the sofa as he tucks his chin in, his fingers spreading over her lower back. "This is where I opened my mom's letter and found your ring inside it," he tells her, resuming his Donna tour of the apartment. He pulls away to look at her properly, "Where I knew I wanted marriage to be part of being together forever."

She doesn't know what to say to that, so she just nods and smiles a watery smile, her eyes pooling with tears. All joy.

He's dancing them to the bedroom then, stopping just short of entering it, and she shakes her head in amusement. She thinks she knows where this is going. "Let me guess. This is where we had all the great sex?"

Pursing his lips, he shoots her a look. "Funny."

"Accurate," she retorts. She gets an idea then, but lets him finish his first. She wants this to be just right.

"This is where I dreamt about you for years. Long before I could admit to myself what it meant."

"You dreamt about me."

"A lot." She opens her mouth to comment, but he speaks before she can. "Not like that." Donna doesn't believe that for a second. "Okay, sometimes like that," he concedes. "Sometimes you brought me coffee."

Donna rolls her eyes. "Of course I did."

"You make the best dream coffee."

"I make the best coffee, period."

"You make the best everything."

Standing on her tiptoes, she places a soft kiss on his lips. "You're hopeless." Swallowing around a huge lump in her throat, she thinks _this is it._ "Well then it's only fitting," she says, her voice low and surprisingly steady.

"What's that?"

Donna nods at the bed, "That this is where we made our baby."

Harvey stares at her, brow gathering in confusion, his head tilting to the side as he processes her words.

"And this," she looks at him, eyes wide with wonder of her own, "is where you find out you're going to be a dad."

Letting out a breath, he cocks his head, his eyes glistening, his lips pursed in an effort to keep his emotions in check.

"Donna?" he scans her face for confirmation and she sucks in her bottom lip, nodding wordlessly. Taking his hand, she guides it between them until it's covering her stomach, her palm cradling it there.

Looking down at their hands covering her middle, he finally says, his voice raw, "I'm going to be a dad."

"Mhmm," she hums, not trusting herself to speak.

"When?"

"When did I find out or when is it due?"

"Either. Both."

She laughs. He looks flustered and overwhelmed and so incredibly happy. It's his best look. "I only just found out a couple of days ago."

"You took the test."

She laughs again at the obvious. "I took four," she holds up her fingers. "I have an appointment booked with an OB in Seattle. I'm seeing her on Thursday."

"We're seeing her on Thursday," he corrects her, arms sneaking around her waist.

"We," she agrees, nose brushing against his.

"Donna," he murmurs against her bottom lip. "We're going to have a baby."

"We're going to have a baby."

His grin is huge and contagious and blissfully happy. Like the night he watched her talk to Lily. Like the day he watched her say yes to his proposal.

He laughs and kisses her, then kisses her again, her arms winding around his neck in a loose embrace as her hands cradle the back of his head, fingers caressing his scalp, pulling him in. Opening his mouth to her, he deepens it, walking her back to the bed until the backs of her knees hit the edge and she falls back with Harvey on top. He makes his way down her body until he's at her hips. His hands wandering under her sweater, he bunches it up to touch the naked skin of her stomach, trail the expanse of her still flat belly. He kisses her there, just under her belly button, buries his nose into the sensitive skin and muscle protecting their baby.

"I love you," she feels against her skin. He stays there, his palms splayed protectively over her stomach. Another peck and then he's making his way up her body until his lips are a sliver from hers. "Both of you."

She pulls him down, mouth open and eager, and suddenly she can't get enough, needs to be kissed senseless by this incredible frustrating adoring man she's loved for so long she can't remember a time he wasn't a part of her.

Now, he's a part of her. She feels tears prickle at the corners of her eyes with the significance of that realization.

"Make love to me, Harvey," she whispers against his lips, her nails scraping over his stubble.

Kissing her again, his fingers tangle in her hair as he cradles her jaw, his tongue coaxing hers and she moans at the contact. Grasping at every part of him she can reach, she pulls him impossibly closer and he follows, his hips thrusting forward, the friction between them unbearable. Donna is pretty sure it shouldn't feel like the first time; this feeling of need for him should have worn off by now. It hasn't. She wouldn't go back to how they were, wouldn't want to live in the years where the slightest touch was off-limits, wonders how they survived like that for so long. But she also thinks there is something to be said for fifteen years of foreplay.

Harvey isn't wasting any time now. "How long," he groans, already working on ridding her of her sweater. (She notices the edge of tenderness to the way his hands move over her torso.) "How long do we have."

Casting a quick glance at the clock on the bedside table, she's relieved to see they have another hour before Ray picks them up.

Undoing his pants, she leans up to whisper in his ear, "Long enough for you to show me what we did when I wasn't bringing you coffee."

.

They keep the apartment.

Harvey was too sentimental to give up Mike and Rachel's old place, so Donna knew he was never getting rid of theirs. (She thinks of it as theirs now.)

They keep hers, too. She rents it out to Katrina well under market price but with a caveat that they're allowed to drop by anytime. Katrina doesn't agree to that; she insists.

Eventually and sooner than either of them thought - because they did think it - they move back to the east coast. Marcus gets back with his wife not long after they leave and they hold a small ceremony to renew their vows in the spring. Harvey doesn't want to go, but Donna tells him to "stop being ridiculous" and that "she's pregnant, not bedridden" and that after all "it's only a weekend". Weekend turns into forever when Donna goes into premature labour at thirty-five weeks and their daughter is born in Mass General instead of Seattle as planned.

"We shouldn't have flown."

"It's your brother, Harvey."

"It's you and my daughter, Donna," he retorts, looking entirely too serious for the occasion. Occasion being her sitting in a hospital bed, holding their perfectly healthy baby girl who looks perfectly content having just fed like a champ.

"She's fine," Donna tells him for the hundredth time over the last twenty-four hours. "We both are." Looking down at their baby - god, she looks so impossibly small and so impossibly perfect - she runs a gentle finger over her cheek. "She's just trouble, like her daddy, that's all."

Harvey brushes the tiny hand. Lily's fingers curl around his thumb. Donna looks at him and he's utterly smitten.

"Do you think it's a sign," Harvey asks after a beat.

"Of things to come?" she laughs quietly.

He makes what she calls his _please, Donna_ face. "That we should move back here."

"You don't believe in signs."

"This feels like a sign."

She looks at him and he looks serious. "It does, doesn't it," she concedes.

Whenever they talked about it over the last few months, they always said they'd stay in Seattle until there was something definite and unmistakable telling them they should go back. Maybe this was it.

Donna looks back at Lily. Maybe the kid, in her infinite wisdom only a two day old can have, got it right.

"Where would we live?"

"I don't know," he says easily, not seeming to really care either way. "Connecticut?"

She knows he says it for her sake. She finds it sweet. "I know you get along now, Harvey, but I think it's best you and my dad have a couple of hundred miles between you."

He can't argue with that. "How about here in Boston?"

"It would be nice for Lily to be close to family. And she did kind of choose it," Donna smiles, thinking it over. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"I'll make some calls," he says but makes no move to leave. She watches his finger trace the back of Lily's hand.

"What are we going to tell Rachel and Mike?" she asks, her face an apologetic grimace at the thought of that conversation.

"That Seattle sucks and they should move back here."

Donna slaps his arm. "I'm serious."

"Me, too." He looks at her, "Were you happy there?"

She mulls it over. "I wasn't unhappy," she decides. "I think I'll be happier here."

"Me, too."

"Are you sure about this? You wanted Seattle and we didn't really give it a fair chance," she points out. "What if you regret it?"

"I won't. It wasn't right. It wasn't us." Shifting until his head is resting on the pillow next to her, he takes Lily's tiny foot in his free hand. "Here feels right."

She watches his long index finger tickle the little wrinkled foot and smiles. "Here feels right," she agrees, nestling into the pillows and closer to Harvey, their daughter sleeping peacefully between them.

.

They buy a house in the suburbs of Boston and it's where Lily says her first word, has her first birthday, learns to ride a bike. It's the address they put on letters to Santa and it's where The Tooth Fairy comes. It's where she learns to play the piano, the same one Donna used to have, that Harvey tracked down and gave her as a present for their first wedding anniversary. (It remains the best present she's ever received. She still doesn't know how he got it.)

They keep the apartment in the city for all those Manhattan meetings running late and theater dates and reunions. It's where Lily takes her first step (and her first fall), meets Jessica Pearson, has her first sip of champagne.

Katrina eventually buys Donna's apartment from her and stays there for years. It's where they celebrate their first New Year's as a family of four, throw Samantha a bachelorette party, announce Harvey's retirement - and Donna's promotion - to their friends.

They make too many memories to fit them all in one place.

When asked if they'll ever move back to the city, Donna says she doesn't feel like they ever really left, they're there so much. When asked if she considers Boston home, Donna says that home is where the heart is. It's true while also being generic and vague and appropriate for a casual conversation with a prying relative or a nosy new associate.

But at the end of the day, as she toes off her shoes and checks on the kids; as she climbs into bed behind Harvey, his hand reaching for hers on instinct where she places it over his chest; as she wedges a knee between his legs and breathes him in as she closes her eyes, she knows.

It's only geography.

Their house in Boston; their apartment in the city; her mom's for the holidays; a hotel room in Aspen or a guest room in Seattle.

She's home.


End file.
